You walk through the ancient ruins and glance up at the ceiling, expecting it to crumble down on you at any point. But it doesn't, you are... Somewhat safe. You enter a large chamber with nothing in it. Nothing except a pedestal on the other side of the room. You hurry across the middle of the chamber and reach the other side. On the pedestal, there is a book that looks very, very, old. Even older than the catacombs you are exploring. You hear a faint whispering behind you and you swing around to see who it is. There isn't anyone. You call out, just to make sure, "Anyone there?" No answer. Of course not. You turn your attention back to the book. It is titled "Ancient World" Hmm, odd name for an ancient book. You flip it open and the musty scent of the pages fills your nostrils. You hear the whispering again. There's no one there, you think frantically, No one but me and my big imagination. But there is someone else there. You can feel it. The hairs on the back of your neck stand up. You focus on the book again and hope that whoever it is will go away. As you turn the flimsy paper pages, the whispering grows louder and louder. Then it stops. You feel a sense of foreboding and you turn to leave the ruins. But you can't. You are frozen in place. Frozen with the book in your line of view. You stare at it fearfully. The whispering starts again. But this time, there is the laughter of children, the scent of baking bread, the dull thud of axes against trees. There is the crackling of bonfires, the sound of flutes playing faster and faster! Drums join them and the book starts to glow, your fear grows tenfold by the second. And then you black out.
A few minutes later, you wake up on a grassy hill. You stand up slowly, your head still hurts, and look out on what there is to see. You are facing north. There is a small medieval village about a mile or so away from the foot of the hill. There is a forest five miles west of the village. And in the distance, there is the shimmering, blue, undulating, mass that means there is a large body of water over there. You climb down the steep hill and head to the village. After about a half hour, you reach the charming town and stop, huffing for breath. The village is a flurry of activity, the women rushing back and forth, doing household chores. The children running and yelling in the dusty streets with dogs trailing behind then, barking uproariously. The men mingled on the sides of the avenues, staying out of the children's way. The hens peck around on the ground, looking for bits and pieces of food. You feel light-headed, it was as if you had gone back in time to the middle ages. That was impossible! You were asleep in your bed and you were so excited to go to the catacombs the next day! You must have dreamed the voices and this world, all of it! You pinch your arm, but nothing happens except a sharp pain where you had pinched. You feel faint and pass out again. A group of people come forth and one family volunteers to take you in and nourish you back to health. They must be very brave, what with you looking so odd with your modern gear on. You wake up later and question the man of the house that took you in. He tells you that you were found out cold on the edge of town and you are going to be living with them until you can get your own place and take care of yourself. You ask where you are and he answers, "The kingdom of Etral." You've never heard of such a place. You pinch your arm again but still do not wake up. The full force of it hits you, you are not dreaming. You are stranded in a medieval world, for who knows how long. You might never see your family and friends again. Your poor little dog, Coco... Hopefully, someone will think to take care of him. That night, as you sleep fitfully, you hear a voice. Be calm, this is a good place. You are in a world of magic and war. But also a world of peace and tranquility. There are not only men here, but Elves and Dwarves. Shapeshifters and Shadows. Merfolk and Centaurs. This is Ancient World. This is your home now.